


heads too strong

by cinabrese



Series: Nole Fati [2]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Gen, descriptions of nightmares in the second half, guilt and self-blaming in the second half, it's all good tbh, the second half is kinda heavy but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinabrese/pseuds/cinabrese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes we have more in common than we might think</p>
            </blockquote>





	heads too strong

Mavis had just settled down in her favorite chair in the library, blanket by her feet, book on her lap, and hot chocolate on the end table beside her. The first major snowfall of the year was coating Magnolia in a layer of snow, and the atmosphere for spending a day reading couldn’t be better. But just as she turned to the first page of the book, a movement between the shelves caught her eye.

“I know you’re there, Makarov,” Mavis sighed, setting the book on the table. There was no way she would get any reading of _The Ancient Races of Ishgar_ done today; the little Dreyar demanded full attention wherever he was.

Makarov slipped out from between the bookshelves, grinning brightly and gap-toothed. He climbed onto Mavis lap and pulled the blanket up with him. At six years old, Makarov was an expert of figuring out how to comfortably position himself onto someone’s lap. With one last longing look at _The Ancient Races of Ishgar_ , Mavis smiled at her godson and shifted so he was leaning back on her arm. 

“What can I do for you, kiddo?” she asked one they were situated. 

Makarov fiddled with a corner of the blanket. “Mama and Papa are out on a job, and everyone else in the guild is boring.”

Mavis raised an eyebrow. “Even Warrod?”

Makarov pouted. “He was too busy looking after his boring plants.” He twisted around to look at Mavis. “But then I saw you come in here, so I thought that you could read me a story!” He peered at _The Ancient Races of Ishgar_ on the end table. “Is that the book you picked out?” he asked eagerly.

“Er, no,” Mavis replied, glancing at the large tome. Even if she wanted to tell Makarov about the old races, the text was written in High Bosnian from around five hundred years ago. She could read it, but trying to convey the ancient language into words Makarov could understand would prove difficult.

“Oh,” Makarov said, face falling. 

Thinking quickly, Mavis poked Makarov in the side to get him to look at her and grinned at him with a conspiring smile. “I have an even better story,” she whispered.

Makarov sat up, looking around them to try and find the book. “Where?” he questioned. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s up here,” Mavis stated, tapping her temple. 

“Oh!” Makarov exclaimed, leaning back against Mavis and the arm of the chair once again. “Okay. What’s it about?”

Mavis settled herself into the chair one last time as she pulled the memory to the forefront of her mind. “Well, it starts out in a little bar, like the one in the guildhall. There’s a knight and a bard. They don’t like each other very much, but they have to go on a quest together. Are you with me? Okay, so, once upon a time….”

* * *

“I’m not working with her!” Yuriy shouted at Precht, the same time Rita shouted “I can’t work with him!” to Warrod. They heard each other and glared down the bar at each other, faces twisted in disgust. 

Precht and Warrod shared exasperated expressions with each other before turning to their respective halves of the party.

“You have to,” Precht deadpanned. “The request asked specifically for the both of you.”

“Well tell them that we can’t do it!” Yuriy spat. “I’m not working with her.”

“You already said that,” Precht grumbled. “And if you have any issues, why don’t you take it up with the Master instead of yelling at us?”

Yuriy set a withering look on Precht, who stared back unfazed. They both knew that if he asked Mavis to deny the client, she would go on a loud and long tirade that began with _“Don’t you always tell me how much we need money?”_ and ended with _“I can’t do anything about specific requests, so get over it and go!”_

Two paths lay in front of Yuriy; work with Rita de la Fuente, or forfeit the profit. 

He glanced down the bar at Rita, catching her eye and earning him a rude gesture, and groaned. The client had better be paying them a small fortune.

“Are you sure we can trust her?” Yuriy muttered to Precht. Annoyance rose in Precht and he opened his mouth to retort, but Rita beat him to it. 

“Are you _serious?_ You’re still going on about that? Have I done something in the _four months_ I’ve been here that makes you distrust me so much?” she shrieked from her end of the bar.

“It’s what you did before those four months that worries me!” Yuriy shot back.

“You…!” Rita began, face growing red as she fumbled for words. Coming up with nothing, she slipped off of her barstool and stormed out the door of the guildhall. Muted swearing in Joyan drifted through the walls of the building and Warrod winced at how loud Rita could be.

The door opened again and Mavis walked in, a bewildered expression on her face as the door swung shut behind her. She turned to the guild and mumbled a hello to the few other members who were in the guildhall so early in the morning. Making a beeline to the bar, she hauled herself onto a stool beside Yuriy.

“What’s with Rita?” Mavis asked as she reached for the chocolate milk Warrod made for her. She swung her feet in the empty air above the ground, obnoxiously slurping through the straw after all of her drink was gone.

“Ask Yuriy,” Precht muttered before grabbing her cup and stalking off to get more milk.

Mavis watched him leave, a confused expression on her face. She glanced at Warrod, who shrugged and gestured to Yuriy. Huffing, Mavis turned to the man beside her. “What’s with Rita?” she asked Yuriy. 

Yuriy shrugged. “Doesn’t want to work with me,” he said curtly. From the kitchen, Precht’s disbelieving _ha!_ was heard. Yuriy glared at the wall between the bar and the kitchen as if his glare could shoot through it and hit Precht.

“Well,” Mavis began, scratching the back of her neck as she spoke, “you haven’t been very nice to her. It’s not hard to figure out why she wouldn’t want to go on a job with you.”

Precht slid Mavis’s cup across the bar and leaned against the counter as Mavis eagerly grabbed it and began downing chocolate milk once more. “Don’t listen to him, Mave,” he told Mavis. “Rita’s _really_ pissed off because Yuriy accused her of being evil again.” At that Mavis stopped drinking and whirled on Yuriy, eyes wide and enraged. 

“You did what?” she exclaimed. “Can’t you let that go?”

“Sorry for not wanting to work with someone who used to be in our rival guild!” Yuriy fired back.

“Phantom Lord is our rival guild, Yuriy, not our worst enemy!” 

“Yeah,” Yuriy scoffed. “And Geoffrey attacked us the first time we met him, causing Precht to _lose an eye_ , and turned me into a dragon skeleton!”

“I told you not to touch the Jade, but you didn’t listen to me! You can’t even blame Geoffrey for that,” Mavis pointed out.

“I can’t believe all of you just forgave and forgot like that,” Yuriy seethed.

“Hey, I never said anything about forgiving,” Precht interjected.

“Whatever,” Yuriy conceded. “I’m still not working with her.”

Mavis shrugged. “Find someone else to do the job, then.”

Warrod shook his head. “No can do. It was a request specifically for them.”

“Oh,” Mavis said. Then she shrugged. “Well, how much was the reward?” she asked, taking another sip of her drink.

Warrod told her. Mavis spit out her drink. Yuriy groaned. Precht went to go find Rita to tell her that she was going to have to put up with Yuriy for one job and that she had permission to punch him as needed.

* * *

“ _‘Nightmare’_ ,” Rita read aloud, eyes scanning the page of the book Mavis had lent her. “ _‘An evil beast that sometimes appears around small towns. It has no shape but a shadow, and lurks in the town at night. Its presence gives its victims horrible dreams, which it then feeds on. Once it has eaten enough to form a material body, a Nightmare moves from the town to a forest, where it then lies in wait for travellers to walk by. The Nightmare will then’_ -”

“Could you stop?” Yuriy groaned from the seat across from her. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Rita snapped the book shut and stared at him disbelievingly. The carriage they were in was a luxurious one, paid for by their client, but it still rocked violently as they went down the road. It was impossible to try and sleep unless you were fond of having your head smashed against the all.

On second thought, Rita wished Yuriy the best in his endeavor.

“Could you,” Rita began hotly, “at least _try_ to pretend that you can tolerate me? If this is how the entire job is going to go, we’re not going to get paid.”

Yuriy opened his mouth to retort, but the carriage driver chose that moment to open the door to tell them that they had arrived at the client’s house.

“You must be Yuriy Dreyar!” A portly man with a marvellous mustached greeted Yuriy as he stepped out of the carriage. “And you must be Miss de la Fuente!” he said to Rita as she joined them. “My name is Rolf Benn, the owner of this plantation.”

Rita smiled warmly at Rolf as he shook her hand, and Yuriy did the same. They followed Rolf on a small tour of his estate. The Nightmare had been feeding on the workers and servants, and, try as they might, no one on the property could catch it.

“We’ve tried everything from lighting candles to creating bonfires to playing music, but it never appeared to us. Until the last night we saw it, which was about a week ago. It had taken its material form, and almost enraptured one of my maid’s children before it ran off to the woods.” Rolf waved a hand at the thick forest surrounding the property. “The next day we sent word for travellers not to pass through the wood at night.” He sighed and turned to the two guild wizards, looking more haggard than he had all day. “I’ve run out of options. I can’t have this boggart terrorizing my workers and visitors and longer. My wife told me I should contact a mage guild. You two,” he now waved a hand at Yuriy and Rita, “have skills that would be very effective against a Nightmare.”

Yuriy grinned brightly. “You can count on us, Mr. Benn!”

Rolf smiled in relief. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Now,” Yuriy said, turning serious. “Your request said something about dinner being provided…?”

Rita rolled her eyes.

* * *

“Nightmares are soothed by the sound of music,” Rita said to Yuriy as they walked along the gravel path of the estate towards the woods. “So I’ll get it in a trance, and you go in for the kill. And if anything bad happens, just use your lightning; they’re afraid of the light.”

“Who are you?” Yuriy asked with mock bewilderment on his face. “Mavis?”

Rita huffed. “No, I actually read the book she gave us. But seriously, Yuriy. If something’s not going right on my end I’ll let you know.”

“How will I know?” Yuriy asked irritatedly. 

“You’ll hear three sharp trills of my flute.”

“Oh. Okay. If something’s not going right for me I guess I’ll send three little sparks your way.”

“Don’t light the forest on fire.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Yuriy deadpanned. Rita snickered and Yuriy almost grinned before remembering that he wasn’t supposed to like her.

They entered the woods, and the night grew even darker. Yuriy felt Rita move beside him as she pulled her flute out of her bag and looped a strap around her neck. As the trees blocked out any starlight that may have filtered through the canopy at the forest edge, Yuriy rolled up his sleeves, hands already sparking with electricity in anticipation.

They stood in the middle of the path, tense with anticipation. They had no way of luring the Nightmare out; it had to come to them. 

There was a snap and a rustle to their right, and a low growl followed. A hulking figure that looked vaguely canine crouched in the brush just off the road. Yuriy heard an intake of breath, and then a soft, lulling melody played from Rita’s flute. His gaze slid to the beast. Its ears flicked forward with interest, and its eyelids began to lower.

 _It’s working,_ Yuriy thought in amazement as the Nightmare started to settle on the ground. Lightning flashed along Yuriy’s arms as he flexed the fingers on his left hand and drew a summoning rune in the air. The forest lit up with a blinding light and a feral screech echoed throughout as a bird crackling with lightning and energy appeared before Yuriy. He grinned and turned to Rita and the Nightmare, lightning whipping out from his right hand and avoiding Rita to head straight for the Nightmare.

But just as the lightning was about to strike the beast, its eyes snapped opened. The Nightmare jerked out of the way, turning to the wizards with a ferocious snarl. Yuriy swore and unclenched the fist of his left hand, giving the thunderbird free will to act as it pleased. The bird flew for the Nightmare, cawing and spewing sparks and energy as it attacked.

The Nightmare, enraged, reached Rita first. It stopped in front of her and turned its red-eyed gaze onto her eyes. Rita’s melody morphed into a series of notes played quickly and desperately. Yuriy moved toward his guildmate, reaching a hand out to clasp her shoulder to pull her back. The ground around the Nightmare’s feet swelled in reaction to Rita’s melody to imprison its legs, but the damage had already been done.

The flute fell silent as Rita fell into the Nightmare’s final trap. As they locked eyes the world around Rita fell away, and a fierce sandstorm whirled around them. Yuriy stared in bewilderment at the change in scenery, but snapped back to reality as the screaming started.

The screams were hoarse and panicked, and, after a few seconds of squinting into the sand, Yuriy saw Rita, staring in horror as a serpent longer than the street Fairy Tail stood on rose up in front of her as she yelled and cried. Heart pounding, Yuriy trudged through the howling winds in an attempt to reach Rita. 

The serpent fell back to the sand with a thud, and Yuriy could just make out a man in front of Rita, flute in his grasp. The sand and winds began to subside with the fall of the serpent, giving Yuriy a better view of the scene in front of him. The man was smiling at Rita, but he was staggering even as he stood still, and his face was ashen. He pushed the flute into Rita’s hands and fell to the ground, and that was when Yuriy saw the serpentine fang impaled in his stomach.

Rita began screaming again, and the wind picked up once more. Only instead of hearing the sand whispering, Yuriy could hear a voice murmuring _you killed him_ over and over. 

Yuriy reach out to Rita once again, saying “Rita! It’s not real, it’s not real. Rita!” Frustration and fear growing, Yuriy gathered all the energy he could into his hands and released it. The lightning passed through him and Rita both, striking the edges of the illusion and tearing it apart.

They were in the woods once more; the Nightmare still stood snarling over them. Yuriy glared at the monster, catching its ugly red gaze just as Rita held up her hand to stop him, saying “Don’t look at its eyes!” 

But the damage was done.

Yuriy saw images flash before his eyes; the ship sailing to Tenrou, Mavis, the woods outside of Magnolia, as if the Nightmare was trying to pick out the worst memory he had. Yuriy reeled back, knowing exactly what it would find, and tried to block it out. 

But the Nightmare latched onto one memory he would rather forget, and Yuriy was a dragon once more, mind hazy as the old magic possessed him. Then, a blinding light, and he was waking up in a bed with Precht and Warrod at his side. 

And there were the words he hated so much. “Mavis’s body will no longer grow or mature.” He saw Mavis in front of him, smiling, but her smile was twisted, and the thoughts that plagued him on his worst days ran through his mind. _It was you fault. If you had listened to Mavis she would never have used Law. If you hadn’t gone after the Tenrou Jade you would never have met her and she would have been safe. It’s your fault, your fault, your fault._

Just as he was overcome with dread and despair, he heard three notes in a trilling ascension. Then the rest of a melody, and suddenly he was weightless and safe, and the world was dark again and the Nightmare’s breath was hot on the back of his neck.

As soon as they were pulled out of the second illusion Rita wasted no time in moving around Yuriy and hauling him backwards with her. The Nightmare growled as its prey escaped and took a step forward.

“Yuriy, we have to finish this, okay?” Rita asked him. Yuriy nodded and wrote another rune; the thunderbird had disappeared once his mind wavered and he was caught in Rita’s nightmare. 

This time the summon took no physical form, but entered him instead. With the power of a Valkyrie, Yuriy drew back his arm and moved toward the Nightmare. Rita moved with him, and when he was about to question what had happened to her flute, he saw wind swirling in the concentration of a miniature tempest in her hand. Leaving the questions for later, they approached the Nightmare, which was trying to catch their gazes, and sent their attacks sailing into it. 

* * *

After the beast had been exterminated, their reward paid and thanks said, Yuriy and Rita sat in the same carriage as the ride to Rold Benn’s estate. Unlike the ride to Rolf Benn’s estate, they sat on the same side of the carriage, unspeaking.

Rita paged through the book Mavis had lent her until she reached the article on the Nightmare. She read the rest of the article as Yuriy read over her shoulder. The Nightmare will then approach unsuspecting travellers and force them to look at it. The Nightmare will find its victim’s worst memory or greatest fear and present them an illusion based on it.

Snapping the book shut, Rita said weakly, “If you weren’t so caught up with your “sleep” we would have been more prepared.”

Yuriy hummed an answer and stared dully at the seat across from them. Breathing in deeply, he asked Rita, “What kind of magic do you use?”

Rita snorted. “Are you serious? You dislike me so much that you never even payed attention to what kind of magic I use until now?”

Yuriy shifted uncomfortably. “I thought you used instrumental magic,” he said stiffly. “But…that’s not it, is it?”

Rita shook her head. “No. I use wind magic.”

“Then why use the flute?”

Now it was Rita’s turn to be uncomfortable. She cleared her throat before responding. “It was my grandfather’s. He gave it to me right before he died.” Her eyes slid to Yuriy. “You saw that,” she said in a small voice.

“Oh,” was all Yuriy could think of to say.

“That snake was a Basilisk,” Rita told him. “They’re kind of a legend in Joya. I didn’t know they actually existed until that day. I went exploring around the area where local legends said that a Basilisk lived, but told my grandfather I went to the cliffs to look for sugar nuts.” She paused, and a self-deprecating smile spread on her lips. “I never thought I would actually find one.”

Yuriy opened his mouth to tell her that she didn’t have to keep talking, but Rita beat him to it.

“My grandfather found me before it got to me. He used instrumental magic. Our ancestors called it taming magic because they used it to calm animals. He killed the Basilisk, but not before its fang broke in his stomach. If he didn’t die from blood loss, the poison would have killed him.” She stared sullenly at the flute in her lap. “I use the flute to channel my magic. I can use it in other ways but….” she trailed off, a forlorn expression on her face.

“The flute reminds you of him. I get it,” Yuriy said softly. 

They rode in silence after that, each to their own thoughts. 

“Hey, Yuriy,” Rita said after a while. Yuriy grunted a response, looking at Rita out of the corner of his eye. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Yuriy breathed deeply and released it in a long sigh. “So I’m told,” he muttered, turning to look out the window. “Mavis said that the day I woke up.”

Rita smiled. “She’s a smart girl.”

Yuriy peered down at Rita. “But you know that what happened to your grandfather wasn’t your fault either, right?”

Rita shook her head adamantly. “If I hadn’t gone into the Basilisk nest, he wouldn’t have come, and-”

“And he made the decision to fight himself,” Yuriy said firmly. “Just like Mavis made the decision to use Law.” His voice grew softer and unsure at the end. Rita stared at Yuriy for a moment, then sighed before grinning. 

“Looks like we’re just a bunch of people who make bad decisions, huh?” she quipped.

Yuriy laughed and relaxed in the seat. “Seems so,” he agreed.

They spent the rest of the ride back to Magnolia in comfortable silence, neither bothering to mention the tears that ran down the other’s cheeks.

* * *

“And so the knight and the bard returned home not as friends, but with a better understanding for each other,” Mavis finished. Makarov blinked up at her.

“That was a really good story, Mavis!” he said brightly. Mavis grinned and ruffled his hair.

“I’m glad you liked it, Makkie.” 

“Hey, Makkie, Mavis! Where are you at? Precht told us you were in here!” 

“Papa!” Makarov cried, scrambling off of Mavis’s lap to run toward the entrance of the library. Mavis watched as Yuriy picked Makarov up, complaining about how he was getting too big for him to hold.

“We got you a present!” Rita told Makarov. She pulled out a scarf from her bag and wrapped it around Makarov, making sure to whack Yuriy with the end of it. 

“Did you annoy Mavis while we were gone?” Yuriy asked his son.

“No!” Makarov said hotly, offended that Yuriy would suggest that his presence could ever be annoying. “She told me a really good story about a knight and a bard who didn’t like each other, but became friends!”

“Really?” Yuriy queried. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one.” He looked questioningly at Mavis, who shrugged.

“I’m sure you’ve heard it before,” she said airily. Yuriy stared at her for a few moments before Makarov demanded to be put down so he could show off his new scarf to the rest of the guild. Yuriy shook his head with a content smile and followed Makarov out of the library, leaving Mavis and Rita by themselves.

“A knight and a bard, huh?” Rita asked dryly, raising her eyebrows. “Wonder where I’ve heard _that_ analogy before.”

Mavis hummed. “I wonder,” she said.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me about all my headcanons for this fic/series on [ tumblr](http://cinabrese.tumblr.com)


End file.
